


Gingersnaps and Honey

by DaveighMustaine



Category: Megadeth
Genre: Bad Luck, Cross-Posted on Wattpad, F/M, Falling In Love, Fluff, Fluff and Humor, Fluff without Plot, Jealousy, Love, One Shot Collection
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-01-18
Updated: 2021-01-22
Packaged: 2021-03-16 02:41:36
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 10,030
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28823892
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DaveighMustaine/pseuds/DaveighMustaine
Summary: A collection of one shots as requested by honeysympathy on Wattpad.
Relationships: Dave Mustaine/Original Female Character(s), Dave Mustaine/Reader
Kudos: 1





	1. Introduction

A collection of Dave Mustaine one shots as requested by honeysympathy on Wattpad.


	2. Sweating Bullets

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A request! Here's the prompt: Dave with a confident girl named Cherrie with red hair and big blue eyes. I'm having her portrayed by Cynthia Rothrock.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Terminology: 
> 
> Dojang- Korean school of martial arts.
> 
> Dobak- Korean martial arts uniform.
> 
> Dan- A rank of first degree black belt or higher
> 
> BOB- A punching bad that is shaped like the face and torso of a human.

I'd like to say that I knew from the moment I saw you that there was something different about you, but I would be lying. There I was standing to the side of the stage with my friend Tom from Slayer, scoping out the crowd as Testament took command of the stage. That was when we spotted the two of you. Your friend with blonde hair and the electric smile, and you with the red hair...a deeper, more vibrant shade than my own.

"The blonde one's mine!" Tom declared to me giving me a nudge to my side with his elbow.

"Fine by me!" I responded with a shrug.

Tom immediately signaled to the security guard to get you two over the barricade and backstage pronto.

I'd like to say this had never happened before, but again, I'd be lying.

Now, normally when I invite a chick backstage they come flying at me pussy first ready to go, but not you. That was the first thing that struck me about you. You confidently walked backstage, a smirk upon those cherry red lips of yours, as if you had done this a thousand times before but never put out....never giving what was carnally desired of you. And you loved it.

But, hey, if you want to play a little game of cat and mouse, then bring it, baby!

The second thing that struck me about you were your eyes. Those china blue eyes framed by smokey eyeshadow. They seemed to see straight into my soul as you looked at me dead on. You raised an eyebrow at me as if inviting me to go ahead and make my move.

I have to admit, my palms were sweaty. This hadn't happened to me in....God knows how long. I was suddenly in unfamiliar territory.

But, finally I spoke, "I'm Dave."

"Cherrie," You responded, glancing around, seemingly unimpressed. What a fitting name. Cherrie...to go with those cherry red lips and vibrant locks. Man, I liked what I saw from backstage, but up close you were even better.

You were wearing this black halter dress with a pair of kneehigh boots. The dress hugged your athletic curves tightly. You were toned in a very sensual feminine way...like maybe you liked to get a little rough. As I checked you out I noticed the third thing that struck me about you: a bracelet on your wrist. Not any old bracelet, a dan bracelet....one that is awarded to black belts and masters of martial arts.

Now I was beyond intrigued. This hot, metal head martial artist chick was standing right in front of me and I didn't have a damn thing to say. That never happens to me.

Finally I thought of something, "What style?"

"Come again?" You asked with a smirk on your face, thinking I might have said something dirty.

"I noticed your bracelet. What style of martial arts do you practice?" I clarified with a smirk of my own. I tried to act like myself, but fuck, you're making it hard.

"Oh," You said as a smile spread across your lips and raised the hand that is adorning the bracelet, "Tang Soo Do. It's a Korean style."

"Oh," I responded, impressed. I admit, I had heard of that style but was not too familiar with it, "I do Taekwondo."

You regarded me for a moment before you let out a sigh, "Amateur."

"Say what now?" I asked, taken aback as my jaw dropped slightly.

"Oh, you know, Taekwondo is fine for some, but compared to Tang Soo Do the style lacks...." You took a moment as you chose your words carefully, before tilting your head with a grin, "Power."

"Does not," I grunted back as I folded my arms across my chest indignantly.

"Oh yeah?" You asked me, "Care to....put your money where your mouth is there, tiger?"

Were you seriously challenging me at my own show?

"You....are so on," I leaned forward, "Time and place, just give me a time and place, babe."

"How about our Dojang? Sandra and I run a school not too far from here," You told me before you looked around for your friend, "Where the hell did she go?"

"Off with Tom," I grunted back. That lucky bastard getting lucky right now while I'm here with this chick who apparently wants to kick my ass, "Where's the school?

You turned back to me and regarded me for a moment before you opened your black purse and dug out a business card. You handed it to me, "Address is on here. Meet me tomorrow at noon. That's when I warm up before I teach. Be there and show me what you got."

I took the card from from you and rolled my eyes with a smirk, attempting to appear my normally cocky self and I grinned, "Oh, I'll be there. You better believe it, babe."

"See you then," You grinned at me and give me a wink with those crystal blue eyes of yours. You turned to walk away before you stopped and turned to look back at me, flipping those scarlet locks, "And Dave....don't call me 'babe.'"

You flipped your hair again and I watched as you walked away. It was only when I was sure you were gone that I let my smirk falter and my arms relax. I then began to rub my one arm gingerly. This is what you might not have known...a few years ago I had fallen asleep in a chair while I was in rehab which ended up causing significant nerve damage. It took me hours upon hours over the course of what felt like an eternity of intense physical therapy to get my arm and hand working properly again. I couldn't even hold my guitar. God, I absolutely wanted to die from the pain and the frustration. But, I was able to do it. My guitar playing was almost on par with where it had been before...almost. But...I hadn't done much in the way of martial arts since before the nerve damage. I was going to be rusty and I knew it. And you....well I could tell you weren't going to go easy on me by any means.

Which brings me to today as I dig my old dobak out of my closet and give it a good shake. It bad been too long. I put it on and tie my belt around my waist. My fingers fumble with the belt for a moment (not because of my old injury...just because it had been too long, like I said). Before I even leave my house I do a few warm up exercises and stretches, trying to shake some of the rust off before I even go to see you. I look at the clock and see time was ticking away, and I certainly didn't want to be late.

I find my away to your school. I had a little trouble 'cause it's a small little place tucked in the corner of a side street, but I manage. The parking lot is empty so I get out of my car and lean up against it, arms crossed, shades on, a smirk on my face, trying to look like I'm ready for anything you've got to give. But, truth be told, I'm about to piss myself.

You arrive a moment after, pulling up fast and your tires screech to a halt. You get out of your car. You're wearing your dobak too.

"You made it," You say, impressed as you step out of your car and flash me a smile. I give you a shrug, trying to look bored. You're wearing less make-up than you were last night, and might I say you look even better me now than you did then and that's saying something. You gesture for me to follow you. You unlock the door and we head inside. Inside there are mirrors all around, almost like a dance studio. The floor is matted and there are both BOB's and punching bags lined up along the far wall. Also, there are different types of weapons mounted and displayed along the ways.

"I didn't think Tang Soo Do used weapons," I remark as I take off my shades.

"Not traditionally," You reply and smile at me as if you're impressed that I had done my research, "But we've been incorporating some recently. Go ahead and warm yourself up then we'll get started."

I turn to you and I want to tell you I'm nervous. I want to tell you that I'm vulnerable. I want to tell you I'm....well, I'm actually kinda scared about this. But, I don't. I don't let my guard down. I can do this.

So I walk over to one of the BOB's and drag him on out to the floor and I start stretching out in front of him before I begin swinging, hitting mall my marks...to his solar plexus and just below his nose, first with my feet and then my fists. I can tell I have less power in my one arm and wonder if you'll notice.

But...seeing as you are a master....I'm sure you will.

I glance over and I see you are doing this stretch up the side of the doorway....doing the fucking splits...vertical! Good Lord! I swallow and look back at the BOB and hope you didn't notice me gawking at you.

Soon enough you stroll up to me. Your eyes linger for a moment. At first I think you're just checking me out, but then I realize it's more than that. I turn to you and raise my eyebrow.

"You are a gorgeous ginger lion, aren't you?" You ask me.

I'm slightly taken aback considering you didn't seem too interested in me in that way the night before but I smirk a little, "For you, I might be!"

"How'd you injure your paw then?" You ask me as you reach over and gently run your fingers down my arm over the stiff fabric of my dobak.

"It's...a long story. I had some nerve damage but I rehabbed it and I'm...almost back to where I was," I explain with a sheepish smile. I was kinda hoping I could hide it from you but you're good at what you do. That, I can see.

"When were you going to tell me?" You ask me.

I give you a shrug. I can tell you aren't impressed.

"Rule number one of this Dojang...always be transparent with your master! In this case...that's me," You tell me with a wag of your finger.

"My apologies!" I respond with a slight bow to you. There was a hint of sarcasm in my voice, but I was being sincere.

"Are you ready then?" You ask me.

I let out a sigh and give a shrug, "As ready as I'll ever be!"

You nod at me and gesture me toward the center of the floor. We square up and face each other.

"Let's bow to the flags," You say and we both turn and bow to the Korean, American, and Flag of Tang Soo Do hanging from the wall, "Face your opponent," we turn to each other, "and bow," we bow to each other.

Then we get in our fighting stances and begin circling each other. We circle and circle for a moment, waiting for the other to make the first move. We circle and circle. Now, when you're sparring of course I know we're supposed to watch your opponent's solar plexus. I know that. I've been doing this for long enough for that to be common knowledge. You can see all movement of your opponents limbs in your peripheral vision if you focus right in the middle. But, I can't help but glance up at your hypnotic gaze. I'm entranced for a moment before I feel you hook my leg with yours and suddenly I'm flat on my back. You crouch on top of me, straddling me, and you shove your forearm against my neck as the other pins my shoulder down. You don't apply pressure, but you make your point and I'm sweating bullets.

You then smirk down at me and lean forward and whisper, "The second rule is to never let your guard down."

I can't seem to catch my breath as I look up at you. I attempt to swallow the lump in my throat. I've never been so turned on and scared shitless at the same time in my entire life. I finally manage to choke out, "Teach me your ways."

You grin then give me a nod. You remove your arm from my neck and placed it against my chest as you lean forward, "I'd be happy to give you private lessons...maybe next time sans dobaks!"

I grin up and give a nod before you brush your lips against mine in a quick kiss, giving me just a taste of what's yet to come.


	3. Lips of an Angel

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A one shot request from honeysympathy on wattpad. <3
> 
> The prompt: Dave Mustaine tries to do something romantic and completely fails.

"You're going to do _WHAT_?!" Junior asked me in disbelief. I had to pull the receiver away from my ear at his raised voice and I felt my lip curl up in an indignant snarl.

It was our one year anniversary. A whole fucking year. It some ways it feels longer and short at the same time. Yes, we've had our ups and downs, but here we were, a whole year later, and Roxy, baby, you deserve a medal.

One thing you've been asking me for since we started dating was to take you dancing. I thought you were joking the first time you brought it up and burst out laughing, only to quickly realize you were being serious. God, the hurt in your eyes, I would've done anything to take my words back. But really, who did you think I was? Fred Astaire?

Still. Lord knows you've put up with enough of my bullshit over the past year, you deserve to be treated like the queen that you are. I'd give you anything that you wanted. If you wanted to go dancing, I'd take you dancing.

I mean, really, how hard could it be? I'm kinesthetically inclined. I mean, I _have_ to be to play guitar and do martial arts like I do, so dancing's gonna be a piece o' cake.

Junior on the other hand thinks the whole thing is fucking hilarious though. I'm pretty sure I heard him fall down the stairs laughing. I could hear as his cordless phone hit every fucking step on the way down as he roared with laughter. My nostrils flare as I cling to the very last fiber of my patience as a wait for him to scrape himself off the bottom step and pick the phone back up.

I hear as his gasps for air come nearer as he picks up the receiver, but of course he's not fucking done laughing. My patience ran out and with the press of a button a hang up on the fucker. Asshole. If I had wanted that kind of reaction I would've called Lars or even James. I'll get him for that.

I glance at the clock and I realized you'll be home in an hour, so I don't have much time. I grab my keys and dash out the door of my apartment. I gotta hit the florist before I head over to your place. I put in an order for two dozen long stemmed roses. Maybe it's a little overkill, but if something is worth doing, it's worth doing well, right?

There's something else special about this night. I haven't told you yet, and to be honest I'm kinda nervous. We've been together for a whole year and I've been thinking that it's about time we take things to the next level. I want to ask you to move in with me. Even though your modeling career has been taking off you've been living in an apartment with two other girls, also models, which has been fine so far but we both like to have our privacy when we're together and it wouldn't be fair for you to have to drive over to see me all of the time. So, the best solution to this problem is for you to just move in with me. Then we could fuck whenever we want, wherever we want, as loud as we want, and no one could bitch and moan at us....unless it's the neighbors and then that'd be a victory for me!

Anyway, I dash to my car in the parking lot and hop in and tear out the parking lot like a mad man. I'm cruising down the road, and wouldn't you know it I drive right past the fucking florist? I snarl to myself and do a huge ass U-turn and park in front of the shop. I jump out my car and shrug the mishap off. No sweat on my part! I stroll on into the florist.

There's a short portly man standing there with white hair and glasses balanced on the bridge of his bulbous nose. I walk up to him and clear my throat. I begin to open my mouth when the fucker shushes me and raises a hand. I raise my eyebrow and watch him as he stares at an arrangement of flowers in a vase before him. He is staring intently with his hand rubbing his chin thoughtfully before he moves a stem of baby's breath a quarter of an inch to the side before he nods to himself apparently pleased before turns to me, smiling gleefully, "May I help you?"

I resist the overwhelming urge to roll my eyes at the man and grit my teeth, "Yeah, I'm here to pick up and order for Mustaine...first name David."

"Ah, yes, of course," He says cheerfully and turns his back to me, "I have it ready back here."

"Great," I smile facetiously as I drum my fingers against the counter. I try, I swear, I try to be patient but this guy takes his time shuffling to the back of his store as he pokes around like he's got all the fucking time in the world. I swear my teeth are gonna break in my mouth as I grit them but finally he emerges.

"Here you are. Two dozen white calla lilies," He says presenting them to me like the Olympic torch.

I stare back at him stunned before I shake my head, "No, no, no. I ordered two dozen long stemmed roses."

"Ah, that's not what the ticket says," He responds back before he takes the ticket and hands it over to me like I gave a shit what the fucking ticket says, "It says calla lilies."

"I'm sure it does," I hiss through gritted teeth as I clutch the counter, my knuckles going white, "But that's not what I asked for. I asked for roses."

He regards me for a moment before he says, "Ah, well it seems we must have made a mistake. But don't worry, I can fix it. I'll whip you up some roses. It'll just take me, oh, thirty minutes tops."

Thirty minutes. I don't have that kind of time. I have reservations for us at a night club called Club Envy. I had heard about it through the grape vine and apparently it's the hottest place to go. I sigh and say, "I can't wait. I'll just take the lilies." Whatever, they're still pretty, I guess. I was trying to go the traditional route with the roses, but you're not really a traditional kind of girl, so I figured you'd still like them. Still, white lilies make me think of funerals, but I guess there's a kinda dark humor in that which we'll both appreciate. So I pay for the lilies and the cheapskate doesn't even give me a discount, but I don't have time to argue with him about that. I snatch up the lilies and run out the door like a mad man.

As soon as my foot hits the pavement of the sidewalk outside I am met with the sight of a cop standing beside my car writing in his ticket pad.

"Hey!" I said as I ran up to him, "That's my car!"

He looked at me from beneath his white helmet and shades. He's one of those motorcycle cops. He smirks behind his mustache, "Then this is your ticket."

"A ticket!" I blurt out indignantly, "For what?"

"Speeding, that U-turn you did, and parking in a no parking zone," He retorts with a smirk that I want to slap off his face, "Any reason I should search you vehicle, too?"

I swallow the words that were dancing on the tip o' my tongue and seethe out air between my teeth, "No officer. No reason at all."

He gives me a shit eating grin as he hands me my ticket and I glare daggers at him as he strolls back to his motorcycle. I glance at the ticket and nearly have a heart attack at the price of the fine. I want to yank him of his bike and pummel him. Instead I decide to take a deep breath. You're still on my mind and I gotta make your night perfect, as pissed as I am. I breathe in and out. It takes me about ten breaths but I feel myself start to settle. I can worry about the ticket in the morning. Right now I gotta get to you.

I toss the bouquet of lilies in the passenger seat as I sit behind the steering wheel and take off at a snail's pace to your apartment. Hey, I'm a hothead, but I'm not stupid. There's no way I'm getting another ticket in the same day. I make it to your place and grab the bouquet up and take the stairs to your third floor apartment. I rap my fist again the door and wait. One of your roommates answers.

"Hey, Dave," Carmen says as she opens the door. She's a little shorter than you, with brown hair and crystal blue eyes.

I smile politely and ask, "Roxy home yet?"

"Yes," She responds hesitantly and then smiles at me apologetically as I give her a quizzical look. "She, uh, had a rough day so...maybe you can calm her down."

I give her an understanding nod as I step through the doorway. Leave it to me to fall for a chick who has got a temper just as bad as mine. I walk to the door of your bedroom and I can hear you in then cursing and slamming things around. I give the door a knock.

"Piss off!" You shriek. I can't help but smile. Not because I'm happy that you're upset. It's just that fire you've got. I just love that about you. And you're sexy when you're pissed. Go ahead and be mad at me for that, I can't help it. You just are. And, believe me; I'd be more than happy to let you take your aggression out on me. Anytime, anywhere, baby.

"Rox, it's Dave," I say, "Baby, let me it."

There's a pause and I hear the door unlock. I look over at your roommate who is watching and I give her a grin before I open the door and slip inside.

There you are. You are absolutely fuming. I fail to hide my smile and your piercing blue eyes cut into me from beneath your bleached blonde bangs. Then you eye the bouquet in my hands and your features soften to that those of an earthbound angel.

"Oh, Dave," You sigh to me and come closer. You press your thick, pillowy lips against mine and I hum out in approval. Oh, yes. I've been waiting all day for that. You take the bouquet from me and smell the lilies before you turn and give me one of your electric smiles that make me feel week in the knees and I smile back bashfully. "They're beautiful."

"Happy anniversary, baby," I respond and shrug.

"You remembered! I never really took you for the sentimental type," You say, raising your brows impressed.

"For you, I am," I say with a shrug before I look around. You had absolutely trashed your bedroom. I tilt my head as I looked at you, "Bad day at work?"

"Ugh, God!" You say as you roll your eyes as you set the bouquet down on your desk and shake your head, "Everything went wrong! The photographer was terrible! He brought the wrong kind of film for his camera, so we had to delay while he got his shit figured out. Then the lighting was all wrong, and the wardrobe! You wouldn't believe the shit they had us wear...all the wrong sizes in patterns that looked like my grandmother's drapes!" You continued on as I nod along. I get it. I know what it's like when shit goes wrong but you're still expected to perform. I couldn't tell you how many times that has happened to me on stage or when we were shooting music video. Especially during the No More Mr. Nice Guy shoot. The director blamed the delays on me being high. Well, I was high, that's true. But more-so I was dizzy! I was standing on a turn table for the majority of the shoot with different cameras flying at me from different angles. Even now that I'm clean I'm sure I would get disoriented if we were to do it again! That shoot was a nightmare.

"Babe," I say as you take a breath, "Go on and get yourself dressed. I'm taking you out tonight."

You sigh as you turn to me and smile, "Don't you just want to stay in? Just the two of us? I've had a long day and I'm not really feeling up to it." I feel my heart sink in disappointment and apparently you can see it in my eyes. You come up to me again and kiss me again before you say, "Where're we going?"

"I got us a reservation at this place called Club Envy. They've got food, music, and even dancing."

"Dancing?" You ask and your eyes light up and you clap your hands together as you bounce excitedly.

I give you a smile and a nod, "Yeah, babe. It's about time I took you dancing, right?"

You throw your arms around my neck and pull me close. I feel you press the curves of your body against me as you pull me in for a deep, sensual kiss. I exhale through my nose before I pull you close. Fuck, staying in sounds pretty good right now, but you pull away excitedly and head over to your walk-in closet. I smirk to myself as I plop down onto the bed and wait as you pull out a little black dress, one you had apparently been saving for such a special occasion. You peel your clothes off and dress right in front of me much to my delight. You then walk up to me, the form fitting dress clinging to your curves. You turn your back, presenting the zipper to me.

"Zip me up?" You ask coyly.

I smile and oblige, even though I really want to rip the dress off of you and pull you into bed with me. I gotta wait 'til later. The payoff will be worth it. Along with the dress you wear a pair of black pumps and I swear for the second time today I'm about to have a heart attack.

You link your arm through mine as we stroll out your apartment and down to my car. I almost have to carry you down stairs though as you nearly twist your ankle in those heels of yours. I ask you if you want to change your shoes, but you stubbornly shake your head no and insist you want to look sexy for me.

But, you always look sexy to me.

Still, I let you have it your way. I open the door for you like the gentleman I'm not before sliding into the driver's seat. I've seen enough of those old fashioned movies that you like and I'm determined to try and emulate Humphry Bogart and Cary Grant the best I can for you. Just don't tell anyone else.

We drive our ways to Club Envy. I had never been here before, I had just heard about it down the grape vine. We arrive and I'm struck by the bright red roofing and canopy of the club. It seems so tantalizing and yet so polished at the same time. It was like we were about to enter Satan's lair where all of our wildest desires would come into fruition.

I offer your arm and lead the way. We walk to the front door and I give the doorman my name. He gives me a nod and waves for us to enter. It's dark inside, lit only in black lights. Our eyes adjust as we make our ways into the club. A hostess comes to greet us and a smile at her and give my name before I do a double take. I feel you stiffen next to me but we follow her like robots. We follow every inch of her naked body to a table where we sit and she tells us she'll be right back with a menu.

You turn to me, "Dave...what kind of a place is this?"

My mouth is agape as I look at the runway before us that is adorned with poles leading up to the ceiling.

Club Envy, as it turns out, is a strip club.

So it's _that_ kind of dancing.

I laugh. Not 'cause it's funny. It's really not. This is just my kinda luck. All I wanted to do is take my girl out for a romantic evening of dining and dancing and where'd we end up? A nudie bar.

"Roxy...I swear I didn't know," I say and I shake my head with a sigh.

"Dave," I hear you say my name, but I won't look at you.

I feel...I don't know what it is. All of it. The stress of the whole afternoon...one wrong thing after another. I close my eyes. I feel like I could cry, but the tears don't come. This is not what I wanted for you, babe.

"Let's go," I say. I take you by the hand and lead you back up and we walk back out the doors, passing the hostess and the doorman, who look at us perplexed. We pass my car and we keep walking toward the ocean. The sun has set and the stars are out and I feel the salty breeze blow through my ginger curls. I release your hand from mine as I sigh out as I look to the moonlit ocean.

"Dave?" You ask. I can hear the concern in your voice. I want to turn to you, to look at you, to pull you into my arms. If it were just me and my bad luck I'd just laugh, but...I hate letting you down. I really do. I wanted to make this a special night for you and I totally blew it left and right. God, I really am a fuck up. I just feel low. So low. I hadn't felt this low since...probably since I got fired from Metallica. I can't face you. I'd never knowingly take you to a strip club. I've been to plenty before and, believe me, you're sexier than any and every stripper that I had ever seen. That's just not how I see you. That's not where you belong. You belong on a cloud like the angel you are. I'd never degrade you like that in any way.

"Hey," You say and you place a hand on my shoulder and turn me to you. I look away. I can't meet your eyes right now, "What's wrong?"

"Rox I...God, I blew it. I...really wanted to make tonight special for you and I blew it," I say with a sigh. My eyes meet the club in the distance. I wish I could shoot lasers from my eyes to blow it up.

"Dave, look at me," You say as you place a hand on my cheek. I sigh. I don't want to but I do. I meet your blue eyes in the dark of the night. You're even more angelic in the moonlight.

"Rox...I didn't know that it was that kind of club. I...wanted to take you dancing and out to dinner. You know, like in those old movies you like so much. Like you've been asking me to since we started..." I couldn't finish my sentence. I don't know if I was more ashamed or embarrassed.

"Dave," You hum sweetly up at me and your lips meet mine. Soft, sweet, pillowy lips...the lips of an angel...lips I don't deserve. You pull back and smile up at me, "Dave, any night with you is already perfect." I snort out a humorless laugh and shake my head and look away again. You guide my face back to meet your eyes again, "I mean it. What you tried to do...that means so much to me."

What a consolation prize.

You then step back and take your heels off and toss them aside into the sand and you wrap your arms around my neck and you whisper, "Dance with me, Dave."

"Here?" I ask amused.

You nod, "Yeah, right here. The sound of the waves can be our music."

You deserve more, but if you want me to dance with you here, I'll do it. I hold you by the waste and we say and move in a circle to the sounds of the crashing waves of the ocean and you lean your head against my chest. I'm sure you feel my heart thundering my chest. I finally say, "Rox...there was something important I was going to ask you tonight..."

You look up at me, your heart-shaped face illuminated by the moonlight, "What's that, Davey?"

You're the only person on the planet who can call me "Davey" and get away with it, and you know it.

I swallow. I should just table the subject but I already brought it up so I might as well tell you, "I...wanted to ask you to move in with me."

Your eyes sparkle at me in the moonlight and you smile at me, and suddenly I'm weak in the knees again. You nod and whisper, "Nothing would make me happier."

You pull me in for another kiss with your angel lips and I secretly wonder to myself...to God...what did I do to deserve you? I had more than my share of hardships...nothing ever came easy...but then here was you. If I had to go through all that shit again...growing up in a broken, damaged family...moving around from place to place...getting kicked out of Metallica...overcoming addiction...just to meet you...I'd do it all again. I'd do it tenfold. Roxy, baby, nothing compares to you.

I don't have the guts to say it out loud, but I think it. Maybe I'll get there. It's a step in the right direction. I hold you close and you shiver in my embrace. The nighttime breeze is cool over the ocean water. You pull back again and look at me, "Davey, let's go...I know a late night diner nearby. And after...we'll continue this dance at your place."

God...if there is a God...thank you. Thank you for her...thank you for my angel. My angel named Roxy.

I love you, Roxy.


	4. Nothing More to Say part 1

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> By request from the lovely honeysympathy! The prompt: dave is dating another famous rockstar called violet and she's currently touring alongside guns n roses and particularly close to axl . he's convinced that she's cheating on him and is getting paranoid just staying at home and not doing anything about it . so he flies over to one of there stops and confronts her about his accusations , they fight and violet tells him that they can't be together if he doesn't trust her . and then like a week later or something he finally realized that he had overreacted and apologies to her in a sweet way , like filling her hotel with champagne and chocolates , stuff like that and they make up.

"Are you sure this is a good idea?"

"Yes, Junior, I'm positive it's a good idea," I snarled back into the phone impatiently.

How could he even ask me that? Of course it was a good idea to fly across the Atlantic Ocean to go see my own girlfriend and surprise her while she was on tour. It had been months since I had been able to see her, kiss her lips, and hold her in my arms while she revealed the softer side of her that she only ever showed me. Of course it was a perfect idea and had nothing to do with that little loudmouthed redheaded weasel that she was on tour with.

I mean, I'm a loudmouth, and I'm a redhead, but I am no weasel.

I'm talking about that little fucker, Axl Rose. The biggest prima donna diva in all of hard rock and heavy metal combined. No, scratch that, the entire fucking music industry. I admit, I can be a pain in the ass and a handful, but he completely blows me out of the water with his arrogance. He is so bad that James and I started talking again because of what a little bitch Axl was being. James and I hid in the bathroom together at an award show because we were both so embarrassed by the temper tantrum that Axl was throwing and we weren't even in the same band as him. I have no idea how Slash and Duff do it. It's no wonder Izzy jumped ship, though.

Needless to say I don't like that guy.

What makes it even worse, though, is he'd been around my girlfriend for the past two months as they toured across Europe. I wasn't worried about it. There's no way she'd fall for an overgrown two year old like him, so why should I be worried?

But then one day I was checking out at the grocery store and I glanced up to see one of those trashy celebrity gossip magazines. On the front cover there they were. Axl and Violet, seemingly out on the town together. I just rolled my eyes. I knew how these things worked. They'd publish anything in those magazines to make a quick buck, and the more scandalous the story the better. It was probably just some picture some paparazzi took of them walking to or from the venue and they happened to be walking together. Talk about trying to make something out of nothing.

So I ignored it and it was fine. I was fine. Okay, maybe it bothered me just a tad, but it wasn't anything I couldn't handle. So I went about my business. I had an album to write and as much as I missed Violet being home with me, her being on tour kinda worked out so I could focus on my own work. At least that's what I tried to tell myself.

Soon, though, there they were on the cover of every fucking magazine. Every single one. Every time I went into the store there they were canoodling on the covers, linking arms, being all over each other. There was even one where it looked like she was sitting on his fucking lap. And what was worse...MTV started to pick up on it. Every time they did an update on their tour they would flash footage of Axl and Violet roaming around together, smiling, laughing...and the way she was smiling and laughing struck me. She only smiled like that at me...only laughed like that with me. I couldn't help but think there was more to the story.

Was she...was she fucking around on me? And with him of all people? What, did she have a redhead fetish or something? No...it couldn't be.

But the cameras were telling a different story.

So I made a plan to fly out to Rome so I could see her, but also so I could see for myself what was really going on. I didn't want to believe she was screwing around, but I had to know for sure.

So I accidentally hung up on Junior without saying goodbye (oops) so I could get ready to catch my plane. It was going to be a long flight and I wasn't really looking forward to it. Yes, I should be working on the next Megadeth record, but that could wait. I had to go get my girl.

About thirteen hours later I was landing in Italy. I was feeling tense so I had a couple of drinks while I was on the flight, but nothing too out of control. I needed to keep my wits about me.

I shuffled my way off the plane with my carry-on on my shoulder and head on out the airport. It wasn't long before show time and the venue wasn't too far away. I caught a cab with little difficulty and headed on over. Things had been smooth so far, so I was going to take that as a good omen. Everything was great, perfect even. As soon as Violet saw me she'd come running to me and all my worries would be put to ease. I shouldn't be letting that little twerp Axl have any of my headspace anyway.

Concert traffic...well, that was a bitch. The cab driver got me as close to the venue as he could so I paid him and hiked it the rest of the way. It wasn't far. The biggest issue that I was going to have really was being recognized. Even though Guns N' Roses and Megadeth were fundamentally different bands, I knew we still shared fans. I had my hair tucked back into my ball cap so it hung out in a ponytail out the back, but that wasn't much of a disguise, especially with my mane. My mane that Violet loves. She calls me her ginger lion. I'd much rather be a ginger lion rather than a ginger weasel like that little dweeb, Axl. So hah! I already win!

Anyway, I make my way to the venue and find my way to the backstage door. I yank my ball cap of my head and give my hair a good shake. Now I want to be recognized so security will let me in. I knock on the back door and am met with a security guard who looks at me unimpressed. Maybe he was hoping for a groupie? I don't know.

"Hey, I'm Dave Mustaine. I'm here for the show," I said as I hoisted my bag onto my shoulder.

"You have a pass?" He asks me.

I feel my lip start to curl as I respond, "No...but I'm Violet's boyfriend and-"

"He's okay," A voice then comes. I glance and I see Slash. Slash meanders over and gives me a nod. He's already wearing his top hat and ready to go for his set that night, "Good to see you, man. I didn't know you were in town."

"Well," I said as I slipped past the security guard with a sigh of relief, "I wasn't. I'm here to surprise my girl. She around?"

"Oh, yeah, she's around," Slash responded giving me a nod. I couldn't help but feel the corner of my lips pull up into a smile. Slash absolutely reminded me of a cartoon character with his big fluffy hair and oversized top hat, "I think she was hanging out in her dressing room." Slash nodded his head towards a door. On the door there was a paper taped that read 'Violet.'

I gave Slash a nod of thanks before I walked up to the door. I grabbed the knob of the door and turned it. I opened the door slowly and poked my head inside. There she was. My girl. My tough as nails, take no shit girl. She was sitting in front of the mirror, a cigarette in one hand and a bottle of Jack in the other.

I could not have invented a more perfect girl for me.

I held my breath for a moment as she looked up at herself in the mirror. Then her eyes shifted toward me. She furrowed her brow for a moment before her eyes went wide and she spun around in her seat, a wide grin spread across her face.

"Davey!" She yelled before she jumped to her feet. I slid the rest of the way into the room and closed the door behind me before she lunged at me, "Davey! Baby! What are you doing here?"

"I missed my girl," I responded as I held her tight. She was pressed up close to me and I felt my heart thunder in my chest as the rest of the world seemed to fall away. It was just me and Violet. All my worries and agitation has dissipated. Just for a moment.

She pulled back and beamed up at me, "You flew all the way across the ocean just to be with little ol' me?" She asked

"Well, it's been two months," I said with a shrug and a sheepish smile. Before I could continue she wrapped her arms around my neck and pressed her lips against mine.

God, I had missed that.

"We'll have to celebrate more after the show," Violet said as she pulled out of my arms before turned back to the mirror she had been sitting in front of, "As you see I've been busy getting ready for the show."

"I see," I laugh with a nod and a raise of my eyebrows before I took a seat in the chair next to her.

We sat and chatted while she did her make-up and she passed me her bottle of Jack and I took a few swigs. Now that we were together I was definitely feeling better about things. Actually, I was feeling down right foolish. I knew how the press liked to twist shit for a story. Of course Violet wouldn't get involved with Axl. What the hell was I thinking? I'm glad I hadn't actually said anything to her about it otherwise I'd feel down right embarrassed.

Just as we were getting comfortable and laughing together about something there was a knock at the door. Violet rolled her eyes and looked at me apologetically. I gave her a shrug. I understood what it was like touring and people bugging you at the least opportune times. It was fine. Like she said, we'd have time after the show to really celebrate our reunion. No big.

She turned and called over her shoulder, "What?!"

The door opened and a slight man with a clipboard and glasses poked his head around with a nervous expression in his eyes. He looked a Violet and then at me and I swear he was about to shit himself. I almost felt sorry for the guy.

Almost.

"Miss Violet...Mr. Rose is requesting your presence," He said meekly.

_Mr. Rose?_

You have got to be fucking kidding me. I know my ego isn't exactly small, but I would never send an errand boy to summon people like that. Who the hell did Axl think he was? The Queen of England?

I snorted at the thought of Axl sitting around with a tiara on his head and holding a scepter while sitting on a folding chair in his own dressing room. Violet looked at me quizzically and I just gave her a shrug and smile.

"Okay, tell I'll be right there," Violet said. The meek little man gave her a nod and slipped back out the door.

I couldn't help but shoot her a look. She was spending time with me now. Why would she want to scurry off to see Axl? I felt my chest tighten and the feeling of dread loom over me like a cloud. It was coming back....that feeling of suspicion.

"Wait here, Dave," Violet said as she stood. She fluffed the top of my hair and kissed the crown of my head before she turned to the door.

I felt a whine escape my throat and I couldn't help but feel like a puppy was she walked toward the door. I then stood to my feet and said, "Babe, I'll come with you."

"Oh, no, Davey," Violet said, raising her hand to stop me as she stood at the door, "This is business. It won't take long."

I began to open my mouth to protest, but the words we caught in my throat. I closed my mouth as I watched her disappear behind the door. I jammed my fists in the pockets of my jeans and I looked around the empty dressing room for something. Some small clue as to what was really going here. I couldn't believe it was just business with Axl, but I also couldn't stand the thought of there being something more between them. I felt my nostrils flare as I let out a huff. I turned back to where I was sitting before, at Violet's makeshift make-up table and eyed the bottle of Jack. I strolled over to it, popped the cap off, and took another swig. The soothing burning sensation danced down my throat and I let out another sigh before I sat back down in my previously vacated chair. I propped one of my feet up on the table and leaned back as far as the chair would let me without tipping over and tried to relax.

I stayed that way for about thirty minutes.

Soon I got restless. I had a pretty good buzz going and I missed my girl again. I had barely gotten to see her before she scurried off to go see Axl. I had flown thirteen hours just to see her. I had to figure out what was going on. I wasn't going to be made a fool of. I had to get to the bottom of everything.

I slammed the bottle of Jack down onto the table. There was still about a third left. I might need it when I got back.

I ambled out the door and into the hall and looked around. I had no idea where she might have gone to so I made a right and walked down the hall. I maneuvered through the roadies and backstage workers before a door caught my eye...a door that had a piece of paper that read 'Axl' on it.

It figures he'd have his own dressing room away from his band.

I took a deep breath. I wanted to stay cool. I couldn't just run in to the room and punch him in the face, even though I really wanted to. Still, I needed to stand my ground. If he thought he could snake my girl away from me then he had another thing coming.

I took another deep breath before I knocked my fist against the door. I stood for a moment and pursed my lips and knocked again even louder. I was seriously considering back spin kicking the door open when I heard a voice yell, "Come in!"

I felt my lip threaten to curl up into a sneer but I reminded myself to breath. The only reason why I was able to hold it together was due to all my martial arts training.

I turned the knob and swung open the door and was met by a cloud of smoke. I almost gagged. I was a smoker myself, but this was ridiculous. It was like a cartoon where the smoke just billowed out into the hall. I cleared my throat and stepped inside anyway and my eyes met with Axl, puffing away on a cigarette. I had no idea how that guy could even function as a singer anymore with all of his chain smoking. Then my eye's shifted to Violet sitting next to him, her hand on his thigh. She had tears in her eyes and a grin on her face like she had just gotten done having a really good laugh.

"Oh, Davey," Violet said as she caught her breath and fanned herself off, "What a bitch I am for leaving you for so long. Axl and I just got to talking and I lost track of time."

"Dave Mustaine," Axl said giving me a nod and a smirk that I wanted to slap right off his impish face, "How the hell are you?"

"Ax," I said curtly with a nod of my head and sucked my lips. I had to control my motor mouth just for a moment. I just needed to get Violet alone again so I could really figure out what was going on.

"Smoke, man?" Axl asked as he raised a box of cigarettes to me.

I held up my hand and shook my head. Truth be told I didn't think I'd ever want another cigarette for the rest of my life the way the smoke was stinging my eyes and making me gag. How could Violet even stand it?

"Come on, Davey, relax and have some fun with us," Violet said. She nodded at a chair next to her.

"I'm good," I responded with a sigh, my eyes shifted again to her hand that was on Axl's thigh. She then followed my gaze and her eyes widened before she withdrew her hand and brought it to her chest, her face falling. I squared my jaw and said, "Violet, think I can talk to you for a minute?"

Axl looked at Violet then back up at me before he said, "Hey, man, you guys can talk here. Mi casa es su casa and all that shit."

Charming.

I was clinging to the very last string of patience that I had before I looked at him and said, "I'd really like to talk to my girlfriend alone, man."

Violet seemed to sense my building tension before she rose to her feet and walked over to me, placing her hands on my arm, but my gaze was fixed on Axl now. My blood was boiling as I looked at that smug little shit. He got to his feet. He has a reputation for being dangerous. I know he's got a bad temper. The thing is, so do I. And I'm taller. And I'm bigger. And I'm a martial artist. There's no way I'm backing down from this little twerp.

"Davey, c'mon," Violet said but I shrugged her off me, my eyes fixated on Axl.

"Well, Vi, something tell me your guy here is a little jealous," Axl said as his smirk grew into a full-fledged shit eating grin. "What's wrong, Davey boy? Feeling rejected again?"

My lip curled into a sneer and I snarled, "What do you mean by that Ax?"

"Tell me, Dave, what hurt worse? Getting fired for being too drunk to be in Alcoholica or knowing that night after night I've been the one showing your girl a good time?" Axl smiled impishly as his eyes danced at my expense.

"Axl," Violet hissed at him, "What the fuck?"

I then threw my head back and laughed before I shook my head, and I grinned back at Axl. I then leaned towards him and said, "The difference between you and me is that I bounced back with my own band. Everyone knows Slash and Duff are sick of your shit and will be following Izzy right at the door. Any fucking day now. And without them....you are _nothing_."

Axl's smile faded and his eyes blazed in his face contorted into a vicious snarl. Then his shoulder moved and I took a large step back as he swung at me. His fist was met with air and he fell directly on his stomach at my feet.

I couldn't contain my laughter and I shook my head at him lying on the floor. Twerp. That was the thing about being a martial artist, I'm a pro at reading body language. I knew Axl was gonna try and swing at me before he even balled up his fist.

"Dave, come on," Violet grabbed me by the arm and she pulled me out the door by my wrist. I was laughing all the way back down the hall before we got back to her dressing room. She whirled around and faced me and shouted, "What the fuck was that?"

"What?" I laughed.

"You know exactly what, Dave!" She shouted up at me.

"No, Violet, I don't. Did you want me to let him punch me or something?" My laughter subsided and my smile faded. Where had I lost track?

"Dave, I am working. I am on tour with him. Are you trying to get me kicked off?" Violet folded her arms and stared squarely up at me, jutting her chin out.

"You working," I said with a shake of my head, "I didn't realize that involved you fondling him and sneaking off every chance you got!"

"Dave, what the fuck? It's not like that!" Violet yelled at me.

"Well, that's what it looked like," I said, "Had your hand in his lap...I was half surprised you weren't sitting on it like some fucking groupie!"

"You're unbelievable," Violet rolled her eyes and shook her head as she turned away from me.

I couldn't believe it. I couldn't believe she was mad at me. I hadn't done anything wrong. I just wanted to see my girl for a few days, and she went running off to another man the first chance she got. How am I the bad guy in this scenario?

I stared at the back of her head. I could see her face in the reflection of the mirror as she was getting ready to touch up her make up when I seethed, "You're fucking him, aren't you?"

She dropped her make up brush as she stared at me through the reflection of the mirror. First her jaw dropped and her eyes widened. Then she clenched her jaw shut and began shaking her head, "You...you're unbelievable, Dave."

"Just tell me you aren't fucking him, then," I said as I crossed my arms across my chest.

She then turned, flipping her hair over her shoulder as she eyed me coolly and said, "No, Dave. I'm not. I shouldn't have to tell you that. If you know me you should know that."

"Well that's not what it looks like," I said as I turned away from her, "All the papers and the magazines....all over MTV...there you two are, like two fucking peas in a pod. And then what I saw tonight..."

"He's my friend, Dave," Violet let out an exasperated sigh, "I don't even know why I'm entertaining this now. He's just my friend."

"Right," I grunted.

There was a moment of silence before she spoke again, "Go home, Dave."

I turned to her startled. I hadn't expected that.

"What?" I asked.

"Go home," She repeated, "I don't need you here. In fact...Dave, if you can't trust me then I don't know if I need you at all. You have no idea how hurt I am right now, that you would believe the media over me. That I was like some...common groupie. Just go home. I really need to think about things and I need to do it without you around."

"Babe-"

"I said go home!" Violet yelled at me again.

I was taken aback. For a moment we just stared at each other when there was a knock at the door. Before she answered the same mousy man with glasses poked his head around the door, "Miss Violet, you're on in five minutes."

Violet just nodded in his direction. You could cut the tension in the room with a knife. She then looked up at me again and said, "I'm going to go do my job. I do not want you here when I get back. Go home, Dave."

I stood stunned as I watched her move about the dressing room before she brushed past me and walked out the door, slamming it behind her.

Fuck.


End file.
